


Hands of a Rock and Roll Band

by emmaliza



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Denial, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Public Kissing, Sibling Incest, Sibling Rivalry, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 00:32:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17971034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: “You're here to look pretty and sound good singing my songs, but don't think that makes you anartist, brother.”“Oh, I forgot, this is your band, and we're just your little minions. Is that what you want, big brother? Me tobelongto you?”





	Hands of a Rock and Roll Band

**Author's Note:**

> For day 7 of ASOIAF Rarepair Week, the free day. Title comes from "Don't Look Back in Anger," by Oasis.

“Where the fuck is Renly?”

Sometimes Stannis feels like he's caught in a time loop. This must be the three hundredth time in five years they've been through this, backstage at a gig when he's been through everything, the soundcheck, the mic check, the lights and the curtains, making sure not a single thing goes wrong, and it's not until they're almost on stage that Renly deigns to emerge from wherever he's hidden himself – off hitting on the roadies or taking god-knows-what in the changing rooms, he's sure.

He looks around and Davos – good old reliable Davos, their drummer who's been mistaken for a roadie more than once, proper salt-of-the-earth type who almost lost half his fingers in a bar brawl; he's just about the only person Stannis can stand these days – just shrugs at him, while Margaery is busy with her keyboard. Stannis huffs in frustration. She's extremely talented, he can't deny that, he'd never have let her in if she wasn't – but he's still annoyed she only got into that position in the first place because of whatever Renly has going on with her brother. He'd have more respect if she slept her way into the band herself, honestly.

The crew start looking around nervously, afraid of his wrath (which also irritates him; he's not that bad, just a stickler for the rules, and Renly loves to fill everyone's heads with stories) – when to everyone's relief, not least of which is his own, a voice comes from the hallway. “Relax, Stannis,” says Renly, shirt half undone and black hair artfully tussled. “You know I'll always be here when they turn the spotlights on.”

Stannis huffs. “Barely,” he snaps. His heartbeat races at the sight of his brother – he doesn't get nervous before going on stage, except for when Renly's there, ready and willing to send things spiralling into chaos. He rues the day he agreed to make him lead vocalist – lazy, shiftless Renly, who just so happens to have the voice of an angel and the face to match. Whereas he, the one who plays an instrument and arranges the music and writes the fucking songs in the first place, looks and sounds like a toad.

It's not like _that_ particularly bothers him; he has no interest in being anyone's pin-up. But it's frustrating that he does all the work and Renly gets all the glory. Then again, what's new about that?

Renly rolls his eyes. “You worry too much, brother,” he says. “It's all fans out there anyway. They wouldn't mind if we started fifteen minutes late.”

Stannis glowers at him. Renly shouldn't think it's worth breaking a contract just because their fans would put up with it, but it's not worth arguing about now. “Just get to your mike, make sure it's working,” he snaps.

“I know how the mike works,” Renly retorts with that irritated look he's been perfecting since he was twelve years old, the one nobody but him ever sees, and Stannis is just about to lose his temper when Margaery finally raises her head with a beleaguered sigh.

“What are you two boys yelling at each other about now, then?” she asks.

Like that, Renly's usual mask is back in place. He grins. “Sex, drugs, and rock and roll, babe.” He walks over to her side and plants a showy, ostentatious kiss on her cheek.

Stannis rolls his eyes. Of course, the audience loves that; Renly stays draped all over Margaery throughout the show, and half of them seem to think they'll get married one day. Not that there isn't plenty of gossip about Renly's _real_ proclivities in the press. Renly plays it up, all of it, tongue in Marg's ear one day and holding hands with Loras in pap shots next, but he'd never confirm anything, never make it real. That's not his style.

A million times Renly has threatened to do the big tell-all, coming out interview, but Stannis doesn't believe him. He's just saying it to get a reaction, because he knows Stannis dreads having to deal with that, but he's not going to cut his nose off to spite his face. Right now, everyone thinks they could have him, and that's the way Renly likes it – he's all things to all people, always. _Except me._

It's not like Stannis cares what Renly does behind closed doors, but he doesn't see why Renly feels the need to be so fucking showy about it. He personally has always done his upmost to keep any hint of a personal life out of the press, not that there's much to hide, and has been rewarded by there being almost as much gossip about him as Renly – there'd probably be more if anyone gave a shit about the person who made this band in the first place.

Margaery just giggles, batting Renly away and off to his position, and Stannis should be grateful for that – they're not sleeping together but they are friends; Renly listens to her, sometimes. _Why doesn't he listen to me?_ he thinks childishly. That's not like him. Renly's the baby, he's the childish one.

But Renly's always brought out the worst in him.

“Relax,” there's a warm, solid hand on his shoulder, and Stannis looks back over his shoulder. Of course, Davos. Who else would it be. “We're all nervous. You two always want to kill each other when you're nervous.”

Stannis is almost comforted for a second, before Renly feels the need to interrupt. “Why should I be nervous? It's not like we're doing anything we haven't done a million times before. Who knows, maybe if you'd change the staging for once, we might take enough risks to actually get nervous. Something might even go wrong! Such exciting possibilities.”

Davos rolls his eyes, and Margaery pinches the bridge of her nose. Stannis knows he shouldn't rise to the bait, but... “I'm sorry, do you want to be in charge of the stage direction?”

There's a pause, and when Stannis turns around to see his brother, he sees Renly's eyes go wide. “Wait, really?” he asks, and Stannis hates what he hears in his voice – enthusiasm, real, unhidden enthusiasm. “Because I've been having ideas, right, for _Peach_ –”

“Enough!”

Stannis barks loud enough he strains his throat, and it might be for the best he doesn't sing then. It silences the room, and Renly just stares like a dear in the headlights. He's twenty one years old for god's sakes, but he's still so good at looking like a wide-eyed child whenever he needs to. Stannis fumes. “You're here to look pretty and sound good singing my songs, but don't think that makes you an _artist_ , brother.”

That was too far, he knows that was too far. “Jesus christ,” whispers Margaery, while even Davos looks like he'd rather be anywhere else.

If Renly had the decency to look hurt, Stannis would apologise, of course – he's not that bad, as much as Renly likes to pity himself. But Renly, after a second, just huffs and shrugs like he couldn't care less, and that makes the words stick in Stannis' jaw. How do you apologise to someone like that?

“Oh, I forgot,” Renly drawls, “this is _your_ band, and we're just your little minions.” He pauses, purses his lips and flutters his long dark lashes in that way of his – is that fucking glitter round his eyes? “Is that what you want, big brother? Me to _belong_ to you?”

That makes Stannis stop dead. He tries to say something, but his tongue feels like lead in his mouth. It's not like Renly means anything by that, it's just Renly being Renly. But a lump forms in Stannis' throat regardless.

Luckily, someone comes to tell them they're on in five minutes, distracting everyone. Stannis' professionalism means a lot to him, he won't let Renly ruin that.

When the curtain comes up they're greeted with a deafening roar, same as ever. It's all for Renly, of course, but Stannis convinces himself that doesn't matter so long as somebody as listening.

Renly is the same charming frontman he's always been, holding the crowds at bay while they almost begin, and Stannis is just about to strike the first chord when–

He thinks he sees it all played out in front of him, but he doesn't think Renly would really do it. Even he isn't that brazen. That daring. That _corrupt._

But Renly charges straight over to him, grabs him by the jaw and into a kiss – full-blown, on the mouth, not in the slightest bit brotherly at all.

And Stannis kisses back.

 _He tastes sweet._ Of course he does, all saccharine and chemical, strawberry lipgloss, he thinks it is – that's Renly all over, isn't it?

It's Renly who breaks the kiss, looking up with a wicked grin, one that ages him much past his twenty one years. Davos looks gobsmacked, while Margaery just stares at him pityingly. But Stannis only has eyes for Renly. Just like the rest of them then.

The crowd aren't sure how to react really, but they cheer. Of course they do, they're fans, they'd cheer for anything – even incest.

Then Renly floats away, like nothing ever happened at all. Because it didn't, not to him – that wasn't anything, just a stunt, something to get the crowds talking and make the headlines tomorrow. Renly's _good_ at that, and he gives it to the band – honestly, they couldn't do without him.

He's back at the front and breaks into song so easily, but Stannis is off-kilter for the rest of the concert. He stares at his little brother all but fellating his microphone, practically giving Margaery a lapdance during her solo, and loathes him more than ever. His knees knock together beneath his guitar.

 _That wasn't anything,_ he reminds himself. How could it be? That was just Renly being Renly, and Renly, he's pure spectacle. Nothing he does means anything at all.

 


End file.
